


Baisemain

by charcoalscenes



Series: Backdated Publications [14]
Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Zexal
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Drunken Flirting, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-02
Updated: 2016-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-12 19:07:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29639259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charcoalscenes/pseuds/charcoalscenes
Summary: meaning: a kiss on the hand(Posted to AO3 on February 2021 with a Backdated Publication date from when it posted to Tumblr.)
Relationships: Tsukumo Yuuma/Vector
Series: Backdated Publications [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2170983
Kudos: 2





	Baisemain

**Author's Note:**

> Actual publication into AO3 is on February 2021. This is an old piece I shared on Tumblr and wanted to post using this site's Backdate feature. More older fics will likely be added onto the Backdated Publications series, so for anyone interested in this piece or in checking out the others, enjoy!
> 
> Edit: Written for the prompt "baisemain."

“You’re kidding me.” Vector deadpans. Yuma and Alit don’t notice him glowering, of course, the both of them having the combined alcohol tolerance of a toddler and cuddling aggressively onto each other while giggling after having only a distressingly little amount to drink. He catches Durbe staring at him knowingly, though, but he doesn’t say anything to Vector, part because it’s just like him to silently observe and part because he’s altogether too buzzed to give an intelligent comment anyway. 

Vector doesn’t even know what the two across the table are laughing about anymore; he got lost in their conversation a little while ago after Alit mentioned fighting off a kangaroo one time and Yuma asking if he won a trophy for his efforts. Vector himself resolutely hasn’t stopped drinking since. 

But the sight of Yuma physically drooping lower and lower makes him pause, and he finally stands up. “Hey, Yuma. I’ll take you home now.” 

Yuma shifts and smiles wider, and Vector has the impression that he would perk up if he could. “…Really?” Yuma sighs, voice a little slurred, and follows Vector’s approach with half-lidded eyes. “So cool.” 

Alit, for some reason, feels the need to slam the table with his fist in an enthusiastic response. “He’s _so_ cool!” He agrees, regarding Vector with wide, admiring eyes. And as Vector takes one of Yuma’s arms and wraps it around his waist, Alit nods. “How reliable.” 

Vector has to squint at that, but Yuma laughs softly beside him and leans against him, putting a hand to Vector’s chest, and hums. 

“Are you okay taking him by yourself?” Durbe asks. 

“Yeah,” he answers, pulling Yuma along with him towards the exit. “Worry about yourself having to take _him_ back.” 

“Goodbye, Vector! Yuma!” Alit unnecessarily yells and waves. Yuma only smiles a little wider in response, likely not realizing that he isn’t even facing Alit’s direction anymore. 

While the cool air outside manages to strike Vector as refreshing, Yuma abruptly stops walking and whines. “It’s cold!” 

“The faster we get to the bus stop the faster we can get inside,” Vector grumbles back, nudging Yuma forward. Instead of continuing to shuffle along the sidewalk like any normal person heading home, Yuma sighs again in the same oddly soft way he did in the bar before taking a single step to press against Vector’s chest. 

“Mmm, Vector,” he smiles, closing his eyes briefly and palming his boyfriend’s torso. “You’re so dreamy.” 

“Excuse me?” He hopes it’s somehow possible for Yuma to improve from being such a lightweight. It’s absolutely ridiculous that anyone other than the most wasted of the wasted should ever make this kind of commentary on his character. “Pull yourself together.” 

He takes Yuma’s shoulders when the other makes no move and pushes some space between them, and Yuma, unperturbed, clings to Vector’s shirt and coos. “You’re my literal prince~!” And he laughs, not catching Vector cringe at the sentiment. “How many people nowadays can date a prince? Right? Does that, you know, …make me your damsel?” 

Vector groans. “Holy shit.” He doesn’t know if the insult he feels at his past being sugarcoated is stronger or not against the rising feeling of glee he has over something new to tease Yuma mercilessly with later, when he’s somber enough to feel justly humiliated by his own words. But one look at Yuma’s sly smile has Vector laughing despite his lover’s borderline insulting descriptions. 

When he tries pulling Yuma again, the other follows, but still whines. “Won’t you carry me?” 

“Why, because you’re the worst damsel in distress a guy can ever have to deal with?” To that, Yuma only nods. “Do you even remember what kind of king I was? Did Alit’s drink make you forget?” 

“But you’re so _sweet_ now?” Yuma preens obnoxiously against him, rubbing their shoulders together but nearly tripping at a quick step. Vector moves fast to catch him, and instead of settling himself back on his feet, Yuma decisively sinks and trusts his whole weight on Vector’s arm. “ _Ca–rry me~!_ ” 

“Shit–” Vector grunts, and more out of reflex than from Yuma’s overly cheerful command, hooks his arms around Yuma and ends up doing what he’s told. “Yuma! What the fuck, I can _drop you_ ,” he threatens. 

Yuma leans his head onto Vector’s chest like the redhead isn’t sneering toothily down at him. 

Vector chooses not to stall too long like that and accedes to their position, carrying Yuma bridal style to the bus stop another block away, because why the fuck not. Honestly, this is hardly the weirdest thing they’ve done together, or the weirdest conversation they’ve had together – even somber. 

Yuma stays silent during the walk, his eyes closed, and Vector kind of hopes he hasn’t fallen asleep on him. “Hey, damsel.” He grunts when they arrive to wait for Yuma’s bus. “Care to stand up?” 

At the very least, Yuma doesn’t feign sleep. “No,” he murmurs. Vector doesn’t know if he’s teasing or if the pout on Yuma’s face means that he’s out of it enough that he insists on continuing the theme on principle when he explains, “You have to keep holding me to protect me.” 

“I need you to stand up for a minute,” Vector says. “So that I can take out my Gazer and record you. I have to hold this over your head for the rest of your life. You honestly deserve it.” 

Yuma, likely more to defend himself than from affection, wraps his arms around Vector’s neck and hums. 

Vector is given a break and allows himself to love his arms once they’re inside the bus, though it stands on the sacrifice of his thighs, he supposes, which isn’t as bad. Vector doesn’t feel the need to speak with Yuma slouched over him after having climbed on his lap, finding Yuma’s words during their trip back endearing only because it’s Yuma, really, but otherwise he doesn’t have much desire to actively engage in a glossy retelling of his past human life. 

It almost makes him wonder if he would have blown up at Yuma’s face if he had to hear this at an earlier point in their friendship. Or maybe even then, he’d have just grumbled and half played along the way he’s doing now. He decides to just step briskly out the bus rather than take the extra time to wake Yuma up, and carries him out, strolling with a barely roused Yuma in his arms down the street. 

“You having fun?” He asks as they near Yuma’s house. The porch light, of course, is considerately left on. “If you’re making me do all the work, it makes _you_ look like the royalty.” 

Yuma is quiet, and Vector thinks that he must’ve finally reached his limit for the night before he gives a belated reply. “No,” he mumbles, and insists, “you are.” 

They finally reach the front door, and Vector lets Yuma down easy. He can probably knock for them and have the robot let him in, but he opts for making Yuma’s life a little more difficult and prompts, “We’re here. Where’s your key? You have your key with you, don’t you?” 

“Aww,” Yuma frowns, not bothering to dig into his pockets. “Are you leaving?” 

“Of course,” Vector says. He knows he has an invitation from Yuma and his family to stay the nights over, but he usually doesn’t take it. And it’s not like he wants to face _the in-laws_ after bringing their son and brother home in this state, anyway. 

Yuma moves to reach into his pockets like someone who forgot where or what pockets are, and with all the speed of Mizael straightening his hair again, Yuma pulls out his key and presses it to the door’s lock with absolutely zero precision. 

Vector takes a deep breath and pushes down the thought that Yuma would’ve been screwed if Vector had known a literal lifetime ago that this is all it would’ve taken to bring Yuma down. He reaches for Yuma’s hand and guides his movements, opening the door for him. 

“Ah.” Yuma has the decency to rub his neck sheepishly. “Heh. My hero.” 

“Ugh.” Vector keeps his hold on Yuma’s hand for a moment more. “Shut up.” He brings it up slowly, waiting for Yuma to snap out of his drowsiness enough to look at Vector as they move. Yuma watches as Vector brings his hand to his lips, letting them stay like that until Yuma’s cheeks turn pink and his eyes regain that droopy, adoring look he held before. 

Vector nudges Yuma inside the doorway and sees Yuma steady his footing before letting go and stepping back. “Goodnight.” He grins at the look on Yuma’s face, like his mind hasn’t yet left the moment when Vector gave him the cheesiest kiss. “You shitty damsel.”


End file.
